


dirty dancing

by sal1nesolut1on



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Actual poop, Bottom Schlatt, Crack Fic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Dancing, Do not eat while reading this, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, M/M, Shit As Lube, Smut, Top Wilbur, disgusting, i cried twice while writing it, no beta we die like men, writing this took a toll on my mental stability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:47:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal1nesolut1on/pseuds/sal1nesolut1on
Summary: Masquerade ball.Enemies.Dancing.Shit.That's all you need to know.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 24
Kudos: 32





	dirty dancing

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction originated, and is written as a joke. Please read the tags properly and do not take this too seriously- there is no personal shit kink involved; although i’m sure there’s a few individuals out there who enjoy this type of activity. There may or may not be a shit-less version coming; it depends. Hope you enjoy anyway:’)

The room was decorated with precision and care, each ornament striking to the eye, glimmering in the reflective warmth and light of the stuffy room. It all seemed to blend in together. Big clean windows, shiny waxed floor, the perfectly-sized podium with soft velvety curtains, a seemingly expensive crystal chandelier which reflected rainbows onto the walls; it felt like paradise. A soft, permanent, yellow glow caressed the room, creating a delicate aura that felt otherworldly. The first step one took inside, their breath was immediately taken away. It smelt like a mix of the flowery perfume of poised young ladies, the musky scent of cologne, neatly applied to the necks of the young, gorgeous men. The scent of mahogany teakwood; the kind of smell that made one feel like they were above the clouds. The elegant yet spicy aura filled the room, almost like there was a release of delicate pheromones radiating from the crystallized chandeliers, filling the guests with the desire to dance and laugh with one another. In the corner, encased by the joyous guests, sat a charming group of musicians, ready to begin their well rehearsed show.

It all felt like one big dream no-one ever wanted to wake up from.

The stout organizer of the masquerade ball flitted his eyes around the ballroom one last time to check to see if everything was in place, opting for the night to be absolutely perfect. Once he found everything to be in order, he raised a pudgy, slightly sweaty hand and gave the musicians the signal to begin their melodic tunes. They took notice and the sound of their enchanting music slowly began to swell upon keen ears. The guests recognized the melodic tune and quickly found the necessary partners, not knowing the true identity of one another on account of the masks covering their faces. Wilbur looked around the hall, seeing guests get together, quietly introducing themselves in hushed tones and quiet laughter, while he was searching for his potential dance partner. His eyes scanned the throng of people before finally settling his attention on a particular, broad shouldered man.

He had brown slicked back hair, wearing a fancy black suit with a perfectly stark contrast red tie, perfectly fitting his gorgeous body. He was wearing the mask of a ram, the top half covering his face, leaving his mouth exposed. It was different from everyone’s else’s, almost describable as offbeat, off putting maybe, but it was not ugly. It was simply not something Wilbur expected to see at a fancy masquerade ball full of golden masks and embellished evening dresses, which made him even more curious about the aforementioned ram of a man. Wilbur took notice of how the man was also scanning the crowd, presumably for the same reason as Wilbur. Locking eyes from across the room, he felt a ping of familiarity that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. When the stranger gave Wilbur a small, inviting upward tilt of his lips that he quickly returned, he took a deep breath and gathered up the courage he needed to approach the broad, clean cut man.

Wilbur glided across the ornamented floor with practiced dignity, weaving amongst the guests who have already begun picking up their slow dancing pace, approaching the ram-like stranger. 

“May I have this dance?”

The slightly shorter man looked Wilbur up and down with a cheeky grin before agreeing to his request. Both of them took their positions to begin their graceful dance, their respective right arms both going straight to the others waist like a practiced soliloquy, the problem of who was going to take the lead stumbled upon their feet. Their left clasped upon each other at shoulder height but the flurry of hands trying to grasp onto the other to take the lead had slowly become more and more frantic.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

Wilburs eyes widened, everything around him seemingly frozen in time, and the realization quickly hit him. The lighthearted, but tangy bite of the voice, the slightly shorter but broad stature of the man before him. This was the man who he’s exchanged no less than snide remarks and hateful words with for years upon years. 

Fuck.

“S- Schlatt?”

Recognition ignited on said mans face, before letting out an apprehensive-

“Wilbur?”

They both held heated eye contact, before a man and his partner danced into them, sparing a small ‘sorry’, and returning back to their dance. That was when the two took the time to notice everyone already in pairs and leading one another in methodic, graceful dance, occasionally glancing at them, unmoving and in the way of the other waltzing pairs. They stood like deer in the headlights, as though they had just witnessed a horrible murder that no one else had seemed to catch from their standpoint. 

Quickly growing uncomfortable with the stares, their gazes met once again; and both could feel the intense flaming tension between them, cogwheels spinning in their heads thinking of their next move. Setting their pride and dignity aside, they regain their position to dance, not wanting to be put in the center of attention. After a few heated moments of going back and forth about who is going to take the lead, it is finally decided on the taller.

“This doesn't mean anything, got it?”

Schlatt furiously remarked, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes death staring the latter, who in return just rolled his eyes in undeniable annoyance. No words being spoken, they danced and danced to the beautiful music, but not in peace. Rather, they danced quite angrily, both silently waiting for this to finally be over. This was possibly the worst thing that could have happened to them.

Fed up with Wilburs cocky attitude during the dance, Schlatt purposefully stepped on his right foot, breathing out a low chuckle and a smirk, trying his best to keep it together. 

Wilbur has had enough. 

He pulls his pants down just above his knees; enough to get the job done but also assuring they don’t completely fall down to the ground. Schlatt, visibly confused with the action, stands in place watching everything unfold in front of him. His underwear is next, Schlatt briefly questioning his underwear choice. Wilbur doesn’t exactly strike him as a type of man to wear bright pink underwear. Schlatt momentarily forgets about everything around him, being brought back to reality as he falls down onto the ground. Hard. All he can comprehend is that he was just pushed down.

“Wha-“

Before he gets a chance to speak or to realize what's really happening, a terrible smell hits his nose and he feels a weird slimy substance around the area of his stomach.

“You’re a piece of shit, Schlatt”

“What the fuck? And why the fuck do you have diharrea?” He paused shortly in between his sentences.

“I ate some salsa before the ball-“

“You ate SALSA before a masquerade ball?-”

“Well- I was hungry!-“

Schlatt finally recovered, standing up with Wilbur’s stinky shit still on top of him, which immediately fell down onto the floor, making a disgusting wet sound. It could almost be compared to the sound of scraping chalk on the chalkboard.

“Take this, bitch.”

Wilbur stood there, mouth agape, as Schlatt repeated his previous actions and shitting onto his stomach. He laughed, not knowing what’s about to come. They both looked around, completely forgetting they are in a public place in the heat of the moment. Suddenly, the taller took the other’s hand, dragging him into the nearest bathroom, which he located beforehand due to his raging diarrhea. Wilbur pressed Schlatt against the bathroom stall wall, lowering himself to whisper in his ear.

“You’re a little fucking shit, you know that?” He whispered in a low sultry voice, taking off both the decorative masks and throwing them onto the floor, as he pressed both their shit stained suits together.

“Same goes to you” Schlatt growls out angrily before both of their mouths are slammed together by the taller.

The kiss is passionate and aggressive, somehow more teeth than tongue, Wilbur biting down wherever he can to assert his dominance. Schlatt can taste the spicy salsa from his earlier meal, not quite sure if he enjoys the interesting taste. Wilbur moves into his neck after a while, leaving red marks and bruises wherever he can, claiming his territory, doing what he knows best.

Their kiss is like a fortepiano. 

Loud; the sounds of wet tongues and skin against skin.

Strong; filled with passion and desperation.

It was an orchestra and they were the conductors.

Rushing, to not seem too suspicious to everyone else at the ball, but also due to his own desperation, Wilbur slid his hand down Schlatts pants teasing him and stirring him up even more.

“I don't think I can wait any longer” Schlatt managed to stutter out, the last of his dignity now completely leaving his body along with an unwilling moan. He has fully accepted this is happening. And he wanted it. 

He was still angry, but he wanted it.

It started with dancing with his long-time most hated enemy, who then proceeded to diharrea all over him in front of everyone, and now they’re kissing like dumb teenagers at the back of the school during lunch break; except its at a fancy masquerade ball. Not much of a difference. 

“What was that?” Wilbur asked mockingly, even though he already knew the answer to his own question. He was met with no response. Teasing the tip, the one below him whimpered in pleasure, pursing his lips and throwing his head back trying to keep it together. He held onto the hem of the other's suit, his chest heaving with intense breaths. “Please.”

With a grin left on Wilbur’s face, he pulled Schlatt’s brown stained pants and underwear off, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning him around, basically slamming him into the bathroom stall wall. It was quite shaky, so after regaining their balance, he continued on with his work; his masterpiece. 

His hands moved to his ass, kneading the soft flesh which still smelt of his excrement. He gently tapped his inner thigh, signaling for him to spread his legs apart. Schlatt did exactly that, unknowingly arching his back waiting for the impact of the tallers long fingers teasing his entrance. Not even a second after, he realized his mental preparations were worth it, as the finger he was expecting slipped inside him.

In the heat of the moment, both of them temporarily forgot about the stinging smell of their shit. Wilbur continued his handy-work, Schlatt not even noticing when he slipped a second and third finger in, only noticing when the warm feeling went away. 

He patiently waited, breathing out a string of curses. Wilbur pulled his underwear down fully, wiping the creamy left-over shit on his now exposed dick. He directly aligned himself with Schlatt’s entrance, going in with one smooth trust.

They both groaned at the sensation, slowly getting used to each other's presence. Wilbur tried going gently, his own impatience and desperation quickly getting to him, speeding up the pace. Soon enough, he was thrusting into the man who a few minutes ago was just a simple stranger he wanted to dance with.

In his mind, this scenario turned out a little different. He wanted to show off his dancing skills, enjoying a passionate and heated dance with some unknown mysterious stranger; In simple terms, he wasn’t expecting to be fucking his worst enemy, their own shit and hatered connecting them. He didn’t know if this was morally right.

All he knew is that he wanted to do this again.

Minutes passed, and Wilbur was still slamming into Schlatt like his life depended on it. In the background, they could hear the music change, people seemingly getting into new pairs and getting ready for the second-round. 

Schlatt could barely grasp onto his remaining sense of reality, his mind completely blank from the pleasure he was receiving. At this point, all he could do is hold onto dear life as Wilbur finished inside him with one last thrust.

With unsteady breaths, Wilbur turned his beloved enemy around, watching his cum mixed with Schlatt’s shit ooze out of him. He leaned in for a kiss, their tongues swirling around lazily as he helped Schlatt finish. 

Their orchestra was complete.

“What the hell did YOU eat before this Schlatt?” Wilbur asked shakily, still trying to catch his breath.

Schlatt looked up at him with hazy eyes.

“A watermelon.”

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Thank you for reading!! I am sincerely sorry for this.
> 
> Also, I want to give credit to beloved Moose- who came up with the idea and helped me write this. <3 wouldn't be the same without you.


End file.
